


Just Once

by visionsofmangos



Category: Continuum (TV)
Genre: F/M, I spent my whole week fighting it but three hours and nearly 2k later here we are, Is apparently something I need a tag for, Listen I had no intentions of actually writing this, Mild Angst, Mutual Pining, My damaged angst-riddled undercommunicative faves fumble through the start of a maybe-relationship, Oneshots that are no longer oneshots, This suddenly got very AU, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionsofmangos/pseuds/visionsofmangos
Summary: Neither of them really meant for this to happen. Kiera and Alec act on feelings they've been trying to hide and impetuously fall into what, by necessity, has to be a one night stand. Set sometime mid-season 4. Timeline is vague and there's not a lot of context because, like her characters' decisions, author was acting entirely on impulse in writing this. / And then, because this was, from the beginning, The Story That Would Not Shut Up, this turned into a what-if-Kiera-stayed fix-it fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Neither of them really meant for this to happen" And neither did the author. I've been working on a (mostly) canon-compliant post-S4 fic for the last two months, and I was hoping to finish it or at least make serious progress this weekend, but apparently my subconscious had other ideas. I've written half a novel for this fandom in the last four months. Imagine if I had this kind of motivation for actually useful tasks in my life? I might have made some progress with that original story I keep swearing I'm going to start, or heck, maybe would actually have my taxes done!

** Kiera **

It occurs to Kiera rather suddenly that she has no idea what Alec has been explaining to her for the last several minutes. He’s standing in the doorway of the room that she’s still struggling to think of as hers – so many things have happened in the last few months, the last few _years_ , really, and she’s never had an especially strong tie to any physical place as _home_ , but the closest she’s come in a long time was living in the apartment she grew up in, and even though that’s probably a relatively small change compared to everything else lately, it’s still left her with a weird sense of loss – and there she goes again, drifting off instead of listening to what Alec is saying.

Instead of processing his words, she finds herself mesmerized by the motions of his lips as he speaks them. It’s a desire she’s forbidden herself, but at this point, what the hell does it even matter? Her life has been a series of uncovering one deep-seated denial after another recently, and it’s not like she hasn’t gone down this path already with someone else, so why even try to hide this one from herself?

He’s attracted to her, she knows that much, or at least, he was once. The moment has probably passed for him, but they’re both hurting right now; maybe he’d be willing, just this once, to let his guard down with her. Just a little bit. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It _can’t_ mean anything. But if she lets this go without doing anything about it before she leaves, she’s afraid the ghost of this moment will haunt her for years to come.

“Kiera? Are you okay?” He’s noticed her distraction; he’s worried about her. This much is not new. Alec always worries about her. It’s both aggravating and sweet.

She hesitates, and then reaches out to brush his arm with her fingertips. “I’m going to do something,” she whispers. “And you need to tell me when to stop, okay?”

His breath catches, but he says nothing as she lightly touches his face. Still nothing, as her fingers tease through his curls – those curls, she’s been dying to touch them – and her body angles closer. Still nothing, as she touches her lips to his. Touch, touch, touch. She’s letting herself have so much more than she should.

Then he’s kissing her back, so much more fiercely than she expected, and he doesn’t have to say anything at all as they tangle together and ignite. Words, now, would only get in the way. There’s a kind of honesty that bodies speak that words can only betray, and it’s an honesty that Kiera has lived her life fearing, but she’s letting herself taste it now, and oh, it is _good_.

* * *

** Alec **

Morning comes earlier than he wants it to. She stirs first; the sound of sheets rustling floats through the heavy fog in his mind, and with the dawning realization of where he is, he’s considerably more amenable than usual to the idea of waking up. He rolls over and squints at her, mumbles, “I thought I was awake, but you’re still here.”

“What?”

“Dreaming. But in reality. Maybe.”

She laughs. “You’re a sap.”

He yawns. “Proudly.”

With the gathering light, full consciousness starts to creep in. With it comes a sense of dreadful finality. He lets himself pretend a little longer, but eventually it bursts out of him. “This doesn’t change anything, does it?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You’re still leaving. Aren’t you?”

“Why does it have to mean anything? Haven’t you ever had a one night stand before?”

“Have you?”

She balks. “It’s been a while since I was young enough to – and then Greg…”

Now, there’s a subject Alec doesn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. He really doesn’t want to consider the possibility that he just participated in an affair with a married woman. Whatever her thing with Brad was, it was a clear sign that Kiera considers her relationship with Greg over in one way or another; Alec suspects she was headed toward that path even before she arrived here. Whether she considers herself more of a widow or a divorcée, he’s not sure. Even now, when she’s talking about going back, it’s Sam she longs for. Greg has never entered the conversation. So Alec shouldn’t feel guilty. Right?

* * *

 

** Kiera **

Feeling awkward, Kiera turns the conversation back around on him.

“What about you? You’re still – well, before Emily – did you…?”

Now it’s Alec’s turn to recoil. “I don’t know, I never – not that I’d rule out the possibility; the opportunity just never arose, and then…”

He looks – and sounds – sort of strangled. She takes pity on him and fills in the gaps. “And then Emily.”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “We’re not that kind of people, Kiera. We’re not the one night stand type.”

“No,” she agrees, “we’re not. But that brings up another point to why we can’t do this: you’re still in love with Emily.”

He says nothing, but his face falls. She empathizes more with his guilt than she’d care to admit.

“There are so many reasons this won’t work, Alec. You’re still in love with your girlfriend—“

“Ex,” he amends quietly.

“—and I’ve got somewhere to be. I have to go, Alec, don’t you see?” She knows her voice sounds desperate now, pleading with him to see it from her perspective; she can’t let him think she doesn’t care, but at the same time she can’t let him know how hard this is for her, how much she wants to stay. She can’t think of Alec now; she has to keep her mind on Sam, or she will break. Funny how that’s switched now, isn’t it? Alec used to be the one who kept her grounded while her soul was screaming for her baby, sixty years too far to touch. Now that Sam is finally within her reach again, she’s pulling away from her anchor to this time. She can see how much she’s hurting him, but she has to. She _has_ to.

* * *

** Alec **

He feels like he’s being crushed under the weight of all the words he almost said. Wanted to say, even, but couldn’t. It’s terrifying, how close he came to finally uttering the truth he’s kept submerged for all this time: _It’s you. It’s always been you. From the moment you arrived, I wanted you. And now that I have you, I don’t know how I’m supposed to give you back._

Kiera was half right, of course. He _does_ still love Emily. The wound of her leaving is still fresh, and it’s painful. But that’s not what’s hurting him now.

Admitting it now, to himself, after trying to force it so far down as to be an untruth for the last two years, it sounds like Emily was some kind of stand-in for the woman he really wanted, and that’s not accurate at all. True, he took her up on that first date in the hopes of being distracted from his futile crush, but his affection for Emily rapidly grew beyond a mere replacement, and it was based on Emily herself, wholly and totally. He really did care about her, and losing her was a massive blow that he’s not likely to recover from completely anytime soon.

But Kiera has occupied his mind from the moment she tumbled, rather literally, into his world. From the start, he found her intriguing and mysterious and a little intimidating and beautiful and odd and alluring and _extraordinary_.  His preoccupation with her hasn’t let up in the slightest since. It’s not like he made his attraction to her a secret, at least not in the beginning, but the more layers he uncovered – with regards to Kiera herself as well as the outlandish situation they found themselves in – the more convinced he became that whatever it was he wanted to happen between them was impossible, and he’s been lying to himself ever since, trying to make himself believe that what he feels for Kiera is no different than what he would feel for any other friend.

A friend who has turned his life into something out of science fiction, sure, and given him an opportunity to rewrite history, and introduced himself to the best and worst possibilities of his future, but that doesn’t have to make her something unique in his life, does it? The fact that he’s equal parts infuriated and fascinated by her doesn’t have to mean infatuation, right?

And then the scales were dramatically weighted in favor of infuriated for a while, and he thought he’d finally gotten over this one-time crush for good. Only then they both had to go through some personal development and blah blah blah, and he’d gotten really good at ignoring his feelings by then, and besides, he had Emily. And he really was happy with Emily. Their relationship had its thorny bits, as any does, but they were making it work. And things were good.

But then Emily left. And Kiera confessed, in her own way, that she felt the same as he did, only maybe not so intensely, and she had no idea about the maelstrom of leftover teenage angst bubbling in his brain. And things happened, and once again, they meant more to him than they did to her. For Alec, this was the start of something he’d wanted so much and for so long that at the thought of it he could scarcely breathe. For Kiera, this was… what, exactly? A last hurrah before her departure, perhaps. Bang one out before going back, at least sort of, to the life she knew. Like a racy bachelor party to sow one’s last remaining wild oats before a lifetime of monogamy.

Alec has never understood the appeal to bachelor parties.

* * *

 

** Kiera **

This will ruin him, she realizes. She never meant to hurt him. It meant more to him than she thought it would; of course it did: Alec is a wholehearted creature. He can’t half-ass anything, it’s not in him. It was a selfish choice, dragging him further into her life this way, an impulse decision made in a moment of weakness… and yet, she can’t quite bring herself to regret it.

She feels guilty for causing him more pain, yes. For making their eventual parting that much harder. But she doesn’t feel bad for giving in to temptation. It was too damn _fun_.

Besides, isn’t she due for a little reckless selfishness? From the time she got here, she’s been making the tough decisions, looking out for everyone else, trying to save the world. And yeah, she’s made some bad calls. Some _really_ bad calls, actually. But mostly, she’s done a decent job. Hasn’t she?

And Sam is waiting for her. Maybe. There’s no guarantee, of course, but if there’s the slightest chance that she can return to him, she has to take it. And if she can take down Kellogg in the process, all the better.

She has to keep moving ruthlessly forward. This indiscretion, or whatever, it doesn’t change anything. It can’t. She has to get back to her son. This… whatever it was, with Alec, it was just a distraction. An interruption in the flow of forward motion. A fleeting instant of acquiescing to something she dares not name.

She hates that she’s back to lying to herself. But if she does it well enough, she won’t even realize, consciously, anyway, that she’s pretending at all. And, after all this time, Kiera Cameron is an expert at lying to herself. Sometimes, she thinks it’s all she has left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's official: I am never, ever again claiming that I'm not going to write something. Because every time I try to be done with an idea before I give it voice, it keeps haunting me until I do, and then it spirals out of control. Also, I'm a lot more verbose than I have any right being. The good news, if you end up liking the extension of this fic, is that the rest is probably 85% done. Anyway, I blame Figure_of_Dismay for continually feeding my obsession with quality musings (and also, fandom content creator #goals), and relevant_elephant for indulging my nonsense and always pushing me to consider "what if" - but mostly, I blame my shower for being exactly the sort of place where inspiration strikes the unprepared. (And in that vein, I am now the proud owner of several waterproof notebooks.)

** Alec **

Early in life, Alec figured out that there really is no such thing as a happy ending. Not because happiness is elusive and fleeting, but rather because endings are not solid points in time. Life keeps moving even after an epoch supposedly ends, and it’s hard to draw the line between two different eras. Lately, he’s discovered that beginnings are much the same way. In fact, endings and beginnings overlap more often than they’re distinct.

The birth of a baby is the end of the insular, we’re-alone-in-this-together stage for a couple. The death of a loved one is the beginning of learning how to live life without them. Graduation from high school leads into college or work or whatever “real life” adulthood offers. And those are all distinctly drawn lines, something which life often lacks. Time, even, exemplifies this strange both-at-once nature of beginnings and endings: midnight is, at least for that split moment, simultaneously yesterday and tomorrow at once.

Whatever relationship he has with Kiera, regardless of its exact nature, is beginning and ending in the same breath. It’s changing, evolving, for better or worse. Something is new and bright and beautiful, but it’s also all about to come to a halt. She’s leaving, and he has to accept that. Even if it means he’ll spend the next sixty years asking a question with no answer.

* * *

** Kiera **

What happened between them shouldn’t be making her want to change her mind. It was a fling, an impulsive surrender to the moment.

It did mean something, though. She can’t keep telling herself it doesn’t, because she’s just not that good of a liar.

As much as she’s tried to convince herself otherwise, Kiera does care for Alec, more and in a different way than she should. An attraction born of intense, immediate, and all-encompassing connection and trust, it has refused to wither.

It isn’t fair, what she did, not when she’s going to leave. It was incredibly selfish, and she should have thought through the consequences.  Of _course_ it meant something to Alec. Aggravatingly, admirably, Alec Sadler is incapable of half-assing anything. Giving in to what she shouldn’t have allowed herself to wish for in the first place is going to make this so much harder for both of them. And while Kiera is accustomed to the feeling of her heart living in two different places, asking Alec to bear that burden is unfair. Which is why Kiera is pretending nothing happened between them. Even though she realizes it will probably be more painful in the short term, she’s hoping against hope that cruelty in the short term will dull the sting eventually.

Ultimately, Kiera’s plan has not changed. Her mind and the majority of her heart is still set on that goal, finally within reach, of returning to Sam. But if she truly listened to herself - especially the parts of herself that she doesn’t especially like acknowledging - then she might see that there is something - something - something _more_.

 _You can_ _’t have both_ , she reminds herself firmly. And given the choice between Sam and anything, her answer will always be Sam.

* * *

** Alec **

So many times, he’s come close to objecting to her plan. Sometimes, it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to plead with her to change her mind. But he’s kept his mouth shut, because he’s afraid of what he might say. Afraid that he might chase her farther away, after he’s only just gotten her back again. Afraid that he might make her think that his only motives in arguing against her leaving are selfish. How do you say, “I know I’ve been halfway in love with you for two years, but I swear that has nothing to do with why I’m asking you to stay now”?

How do you even convince yourself it’s true, much less anyone else?

It’s one variable in the equation, probably. He’s not especially proud of it. But there are countless reasons why leaping forward in time is a bad idea. Poorly thought out, at the very least.

As time has passed, her mission has become more real. Whatever hope he had that she would wake up and realize the holes in her plan has faded completely by now. That doesn’t stop the wishing, though.

* * *

** Kiera **

It’s fascinating how, even in the midst of chaos, humans have a tendency to find or create structure. There’s safety in routine. Every morning around seven, Kiera pours herself a bowl of cereal and checks the news on her phone while she eats. Now that she’s not really working for the VPD, she doesn’t strictly _need_ to follow a schedule, but it’s in her nature to do so anyway.

Today, Julian meanders into the kitchen and starts poking around the fridge and cabinets. He drifts in and out of all of their lives, but he’s been staying at Alec’s place more often than not lately. Unlike Kiera, Julian does not keep regular hours. In fact, he’s sort of nocturnal. So seeing him up and fully conscious at breakfast time is mildly disconcerting.

Food is interesting in this house. In theory, everyone is supposed to primarily fend for themselves, although when time allows, they all take turns making dinner to share occasionally. In practicality, it usually turns out that Alec is the only one who remembers to grocery shop with any regularity; Julian, on the occasions he remembers to eat, eats everyone’s food, and no one is quite sure if he’s doing it intentionally or if he actually forgets it’s not his; Jason is a surprisingly good cook, as long as he remembers to finish what he starts; and Kiera ends up being the one to clean out the fridge on a regular basis, because apparently she’s the only one who notices the smell of yogurts that were probably past their sell-by date when they first appeared, who knows when. It’s not the most functional system, but no one is especially invested in changing it, either.  It occurs to Kiera that she’ll miss this mundane rhythm when she leaves. Also, she’s more than a little concerned about the possibility of one of her absentminded house mates getting food poisoning. Maybe she’ll leave a note taped to the fridge with a reasonable cleaning schedule.

Clearly dismayed by the lack of whatever he was looking for, Julian heaves a sigh and pulls out a carton of eggs and a skillet.

“What’s the plan, then?” Julian asks, presumably addressing Kiera, though his back is turned to her. His tone is casual, but there’s a characteristic bite to it. Everything Julian says is bitter, caustic, sharp. He’s a young man with deadly potential who’s trying to reign it in to choose peace, but his razor nature shows through even still. It’s still alarming to Kiera to ally herself with him, when he hasn’t fully decided how to shape his own future. Knowing what she does about just how sour it can go, she’s still uncomfortable around him sometimes. Another part of her, though, recognizes just how useful he can be to the freedom coalition, or whatever they will end up calling themselves, and she does see how hard he’s trying.

“Nothing has changed, at least not that I’m aware. We figure out what Kellogg—”

Julian waves off her explanation. “Not that part. I mean for you. Are you going, or not?”

Kiera’s mouth goes dry. Why pretend she doesn’t know what he means? It’s not like she didn’t realize she’d have to have this conversation with everyone eventually, it’s just…

“Come on, you think we haven’t all put two and two together by now? If we’re messing with a time portal or whatever, obviously you’re going to have to decide if you want to go home or stay here. So which is it?”

Suddenly exhausted, Kiera tries to draw on whatever’s left of her reserves of boldness. This used to be easy, before she cared about this timeline and the people in it. “I’m going home. My son needs me.”

Julian nods, but his mouth twists in something Kiera can’t quite name. Disappointment? Disgust? “And this is disregarding all of Alec’s time travel theories that indicate such a thing is impossible.”

“I can’t let that keep me from my child. If there’s any chance, I have to try. He’s where I belong.” How could Julian, how could any of them, ever hope to understand that? Her love for her child is what drives her to do implausible things every day.

“I see. So the fact that you may or may not have someone waiting for you on the other side means it’s perfectly acceptable for you to skip ahead to the part where everything’s fine and dandy.” And this time, his disdain is perfectly clear. “You don’t have to put in the effort to make the future better, because that’s where you’re from. Right. Even though, if we’re doing our jobs right, your world doesn’t even exist anymore, it’s fine for you to peace out now, when things are really picking up.”

Flabbergasted, Kiera stares at him. “You _asshole_ ,” she says finally.

“What, honesty makes me an asshole? Find something I haven’t heard before. Alec might be fine with playing along with your pretty little fantasy, but I’m not interested in pretending everything’s going to magically work out. You belong here, getting your hands dirty to _fix this shit_ we’re in. You didn’t ask for it? Great! Neither did I! None of us did! But you, Kiera, are the one advantage we have over destiny. We’ve got one ace up our sleeve. You’re our oracle. You know what went wrong. And you might not know how to stop it, but you sure as hell can at least try!”

“This is not my fight, Julian. I have no obligation to you or anyone else to make this work.”

“You want a better future for your kid?” Julian snaps. “Then make one.”

Wordlessly, Kiera gets up, throws her empty bowl and spoon into the sink with a satisfying clatter, and stalks off, all the while trembling with rage - and something else she doesn’t want to name.

* * *

** Alec **

Alec’s bedroom door slams, startling him out of thought and back into the real world, where a clearly irate Kiera is fuming. Alec raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask.

As he knew she would, Kiera launches into a rant. “Your brother,” she explodes in icy fury, “is a _douchecanoe_.” She’s pacing, hands clenched. In spite of Kiera’s obvious sincerity, Alec nearly chokes on suppressed laughter at Kiera’s experimental 2010s terminology.

“He has his days,” Alec replies carefully. “What did he do this time?” Kiera and Julian have never been friendly, and he doubts they ever would be, even if Kiera were staying. Kiera isn’t convinced Julian could ever be in it for more than himself, and Julian, for obvious reasons, holds a bit of a grudge against Kiera. Pointing a gun at someone isn’t the best way to make friends. Still, their standoffs rarely amount to anything more than circling each other warily. Perhaps naively, Alec had assumed they’d moved on to a grudging acceptance of each other.

“He wanted to know my plans with regards to this portal thing Kellogg’s crew is working on. Seemingly, he does not approve.”

Ah. “Well, you knew it wouldn’t make sense to everyone. You don’t need Julian’s approval. Or anyone else’s.” _Not like you_ _’re listening to any of us anyway,_ he thinks. Even unspoken, the words leave a sour taste in his mouth. Still, it’s true. Carlos and Brad have both taken turns trying to talk Kiera out of various aspects of her plan, and it hasn’t made any difference.

“He called me selfish,” Kiera spits.

Weakly, Alec mumbles, “Well, tact never was Julian’s strong suit.” Before he can stop himself, more words follow. “He does kind of have a point, though.”

Kiera stops dead in her tracks, tilts her head, and _stares_. “Excuse you?”

Everything he’s been agonizing over, every squashed-down speech he’s practiced and discarded, comes bubbling up without consulting him first. “I mean, there is a lot to be done, still. And I get it, you’ve got a really good reason for trying to go back, but…”

Heatedly, Kiera retorts, “Do you think I made this decision lightly?”

“No, I know you’ve been wrestling with it, but…” He pauses, and then launches into a diatribe he knows he won’t be able to take back. “Actually? Kinda, yeah. I mean, one minute you’re completely onboard with the plan to rewrite history or whatever, trying to make a life for yourself here, and next minute you’re telling me it’s time to think of your own needs and you want to go back. I know you miss Sam, but what changed, really? So you hallucinated some version of him and now everything else you knew and wanted to accomplish flies out the window?”

Disbelief is the best word he can think of for her reaction. Maybe a hint of betrayal. “Alec, I want to go home! I never belonged here, I was never meant for this time. I wasn’t consulted before being assigned to this mission. Forgive me for wanting to actually have a say in what happens to me this time around…!”

Every shred of panic over every terribly possibility slams into him at once. “Do you realize how insane this is?” he shouts. “Assuming there’s even a home for you to go back to at all, you have no guarantee you’ll get there in one piece! You could be leaping into the void, and you don’t even care!”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not asking you to stay for me, okay? I know that’s not my place, and it’s not even where I’m coming from. I’m asking you to stay for everyone else, for _you_ – I know you don’t care about your own safety—”

“Oh, this again!” She throws her hands in the air. “I am not suicidal, Alec, and I’m not crazy. You’d understand if you had a child – not Jason; I mean a child you actually raised. You take risks for them, Alec. It’s what being a parent means. That’s what love _is_ : you put someone else’s needs ahead of your own.”

“Is that really what you’re doing, though? Is you being there actually going to help him? Because—” he takes another deep breath – “I’ve been doing the math, Kiera, literally and metaphorically. You realize, if my understanding of time travel is correct – and if you have any hope of making it back, we’d all better pray it is – then there will be another version of you in whatever timeline you make it to. Assuming you jump to a later point on this timeline, or even a copy of this one, there will be two of you, just like there was when we traveled here. You haven’t even been born in this timeline yet. Meaning, if Sam ever does exist this time around, then…”

“He won’t even be my son,” she whispers, a horrified expression on her face.

This, at least, is sinking in. Maybe nothing else he’s said will mean anything to her beyond a source of outrage, but this is what has meaning to her. Sam is Kiera’s lifeline. Without him, well… Alec is afraid to see how far she’ll drift.

“Could you really do it, Kiera? Could you live the rest of your life seeing Sam and not being able to be with him? If he exists in the new new timeline, that means he has you already. Not _you_ you, but you know what I mean.”

Maybe it’s not fair to force her to face this, especially all at once. But he doesn’t know how long he has, and besides, wouldn’t it be worse to not say it at all? To let her take a leap of faith without considering the consequences?

Before his eyes, Kiera Cameron crumples.

* * *

** Kiera **

At first, Kiera lets herself pretend Alec was lying. Or perhaps that they didn’t fight at all. It’s simpler that way. She has a plan, and she’s sticking to it.

It’s Julian’s argument, insensitive though it was, that she can’t quite get out of her head. She has a job to do. And in the sparing moments between confrontations among key players from various timelines, Julian’s and Alec’s separate logic intertwines, and it regrettably starts to make sense.

If Sam is unreachable, then there is no point in risking a leap through time. This is a claim she’s resolutely chosen to ignore, however. Whatever the risk to herself, she will try.

If, however, Sam is not _her_ Sam… then doesn’t it make more sense for her to stay here, to build a better world for him to live in one day?

Kiera doesn’t doubt her leadership capabilities. She knows she could make a difference here, if she stayed. Probably it’s the most logical thing to do.

But. _Sam_.

Parenthood makes you unreasonable. It’s what enables an average woman to lift a fallen tree off her child; it’s what inspires an everyday man to jump in front of a car to knock his child out of its path; it’s what convinces normal people to sacrifice their own time and pleasures to care for an infant incapable of offering anything in return. Love doesn’t consider the rational response. Love moves recklessly for the good of its object.

It seems more selfish than noble for her to choose to stay. It would be easy to stay, to maintain the status quo she’s grown accustomed to in the last couple years. Leaving, with its possibility of oblivion or death, seems the harder choice. Knowing that she has a life here, a role to fill, actually makes it more difficult to remain in this place. Because it would be so _easy_ to keep doing what she’s doing. Here, she has her found family; she has friends and a purpose. Going back, she has no idea what she might find, and isn’t that the kind of sacrifice a mother makes for her child?

There’s no good option, really. No matter what she does, one part of her soul will be yanked in the opposite direction of where it belongs.

Those days and weeks are hell. Everything keeps _happening_ , all at once, no time to stop and breathe and consider futures. It’s hardly even worth doing, really, since the future she sees for herself, for them all, keeps changing. Her world is subsumed by a singular mission - _stop the super soldiers, get ahead of Kellogg, keep everyone safe_ — and over and over again, it doesn’t _work_ , people get hurt, people _die_ , and she has to keep moving, she can’t slow down even for a second.

Then the actual moment she’s been dreading comes, and she has to make the final decision for real. This is her one chance, probably her last chance, to go home. To return to the life she knew. To see her son.

It’s not, she knows, really still up for debate at all. She made this call a long time ago.

“Kiera?” It’s Alec’s voice, apprehensive and urgent. “Kiera, it’s time. Are you—?”

Closing her eyes, she attempts to tune out the chaos and any awareness of the crowd gathered behind her. The din of battle is starting to fade, and she can hear the pulse in her ears and the pounding rhythm of her anxious, unraveling heartbeat. Her heart feels like it’s attempting to detach itself from her body, so that it, at least, can chase after Sam. Perhaps that explains the tightness in her chest – it’s trying to hold on still, because how could she keep on going with no heart?

Sam. She’s so close. It’s only a few steps from where she is now to the possibility of being reunited with her baby. Everything in her is crying out for him. It has been, this whole time, only in this moment, so close to having him back again, she can’t drown out the song his name makes in her head: _Sam, Sam, Sam_.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers brokenly, and she turns back to the family, the calling, she chose.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I really have no excuse for this update taking so long. This was all almost completely ready to go ages ago; I just had to polish it a little. The only thing I have to offer in my defense is that I was going to post the whole middle section of this story in one go, but there's a scene that's giving me a lot of trouble, so I decided to split it up. On the downside, this update is pretty much one big ball of angst, so... tradeoff? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Kiera**

The immediate aftermath is a blur. There’s a brief return to the shooting, as Zorin, stunned and grieved at the loss of what he’s been working towards for so long, starts firing bullets in every direction. A Piron guard, clearly seizing the opportunity for free thought in Kellogg’s absence, takes him down. When all is said and done, the body count is horrifyingly high.

Alone of his former team, Brad survives, and getting him out without inciting the wrath of the remaining officers is possible only by sheer force of will. He’s made enemies on all sides. Kiera doesn’t feel the need for a drawn-out farewell with him, but she does believe he at least deserves an in-person goodbye. In spite of the fact that every physically and emotionally drained cell in her body is screaming for her to collapse on the floor and sleep for a decade, she escorts him to a safe house and supplies him with information to get in contact with a friend of Julian’s who promised to help Brad make a new start up north. And then, utterly exhausted in every possible way, Kiera wordlessly walks away. What do you say to someone who screwed you over so badly, but with all the right intentions? At least Brad has the sense not to ask for any sentiment from Kiera. Even after the intense push-and-pull of their relationship, Kiera is surprised to discover she feels no real obligation to him beyond ensuring his safety for now. They part on decent terms, but she doubts she’ll miss him.

Garza’s sendoff, true to character, requires nothing more than a quick nod of respect and a handshake, and then she’s off, to Kiera hopes never to know where. Carlos’s latest intelligence whispers something about South American revolutions, but Kiera has no desire to know details. Unfortunately, she has an inkling her blissful ignorance won’t last forever, but it’s something to be grateful for, at least for the time being.

Also true to form, Chen disappears without any indication of his destination or motives. If Kiera never sees him again, it’ll be too soon.

In short, Kiera shows up and made an effort, and she feels, quite frankly, that she deserves a medal for that kind of heroics.

It’s nearly twenty-four hours later, after the battle at the warehouse, that Kiera is finally able to come home and collapse onto Alec’s stupidly fancy couch and just sleep.

She wakes up once to see Alec curled up in a chair across the dark room from her. There’s a cut on his face - when did he get that? - and the shadows under his eyes are even more pronounced than usual. Her shoulder, bruised from so many deflected shots, twinges, and she shifts to accommodate it - only she must do so more noisily than she thought, because Alec stirs and blinks sleepily at her. Hastily, Kiera closes her eyes so he won’t know she’s awake; she isn’t ready to talk about it, about anything, really, yet. Minutes later, when she is reasonably confident Alec will have fallen back asleep, she cracks open one eyelid, and she finds he’s watching her, his expression troubled.

* * *

 **Alec**  

The utter shock of it knocks him completely off-kilter. Knowing she’s here to stay inspires in him so many mixed feelings. Selfishly, of course, he’s grateful, if for no other reason than he doesn’t have to wonder for the rest of his life if he sent his friend off to her death. On the other hand, he knows it’s his fault she’s still here, separated from everything she knew.

At first, Kiera cries more often than she smiles. He’s never seen her this emotionally honest, and on a level, it’s disconcerting. He’s not sure it’s really his place, given that it’s his fault she’s still here, but he does at least try to comfort her. Words aren’t a strength for either of them, though, and he’s not convinced he’s not doing more harm than good.

To his shock, she lets him hold her one night as she sobs, shaking and crushed with the certainty that she’s abandoned her son. “Just stay with me,” she pleads softly. She curls up into his shoulder, seeming smaller than he could have imagined possible and frailer than he’s ever conceptualized her to be, and grieves.

From a psychology elective that he took in high school, he recalls the term _ambiguous loss_ : that strange mourning over something you can’t really know or feel you have no right to miss. Parents who’ve experienced miscarriage, spouses of soldiers taken prisoner and presumed dead, siblings of kidnapping victims: they all have to find a way to give themselves permission to feel sorrow over an undefined, borderless tragedy. It’s possible, even probable, that Kiera’s Sam was gone, that she could not have returned to him. But knowing that she chose to discard any hope and intentionally stay… Well, guilt’s a language Alec intimately understands.

He can’t bring himself to celebrate this small victory, Kiera remaining in the world he knows, when he sees how much pain her decision has caused her.

And yet.

How can he still want, how can he _hope_ , at a time like this?

Often he’s wondered, over the years, if his affection for her is based on any real connection, or if it’s simply a mark of a too-close relationship. But then, why shouldn’t they be close, two kindred spirits in a world they understand too well? Love is often born of intimacy, and two people who know too much and work side-by-side to accomplish the same goals… Well, why shouldn’t they form some kind of… bond…?

He’s furious with himself for even entertaining the thought. He can’t be thinking about this now. He forces himself to stop chasing the circling thoughts round and round his head in favor of just being present, here. For her. Kiera needs him. As much comfort and kindness as she’ll accept, he’ll offer. It’s the least he can do, really.

This is the person who turned his world upside down and shattered his understanding of reality. The woman who’s pushed him beyond anything he ever thought he could be. The friend, ally, and companion who simultaneously exasperates and captivates him more than anyone he’s ever known.

He’ll be whatever she needs him to be, for as long as she needs it.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles miserably into her hair.

Kiera shifts against his side and blinks up at him in surprise. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He feels wretched, because _yes_ , he did, he convinced her to do this thing she regrets. But aloud, he says, “Not like that. I meant, you know, in the empathetic sense.”

“No, really,” Kiera presses. “You need to understand, I didn’t do this because of you. Or, sort of, but… What I mean is, this isn’t your fault, that I’m here instead of there. This isn’t anybody’s fault, except, well, other you. Old you. What I mean is—” She bites her lip and looks immensely frustrated. “Words!” she mutters like it’s a curse. “What I’m trying to say is you shouldn’t feel guilty. You made the right call, telling me all the reasons why it didn’t make sense for me to go. You all did. I needed somebody to make me face reality, and you did that.”

It’s silent between them, the only sounds electronic: the whirring of a laptop fan, the hum of the refrigerator, the faint buzzing of a TV in another room. Alec swallows. “Okay,” he says. It’s obvious he doesn’t believe her, but this isn’t about him, is it? He needs to get it together; Kiera is the one grieving right now; she shouldn’t feel like she has to comfort him.

“Listen to me, Alec,” she insists, and she lightly touches his face. “I’m _glad_ you said what you did. Other people tried, but I could tune them out. You cared enough for it to mean something, coming from you. I miss—” her breath hitches, “I miss Sam, I always will, but I can’t damn the world to get back to him. I have unfinished business here. I mean, really.” She smiles slightly. “You all would be lost without me. You _need_ me.”

 _More than I’d like to admit_ , he thinks. “You’re braver than anyone I’ve ever met, Kiera Cameron,” he tells her. Together, they just breathe.

* * *

  **Kiera**

The realization of what she’s done, the implication of her choice, crashes over her like a wave, again and again without ceasing, for days, weeks. Each time she manages to find some small happiness, the guilt breaks her all over again. Even knowing what she does – that Sam is no more out of her reach now than he was the moment she left him, that in all likelihood she would not have gotten back to him anyway – she can’t shake the self-recriminating whispers from her head. What mother doesn’t do everything in her power to reunite with her child?

It’s the finality of it, knowing that she’s here to stay, that there will be no more chances to change her mind. Not because it’s impossible, not that she’s stuck here - if she asked, she’s sure that Alec would try to find another way to send her forward, in spite of his own reservations - but because she knows that Alec, Julian, Carlos, Brad, even Kellogg, all of them were right; she has more to do here. This place, this time, this calling: it was her choice, it _is_ her choice, and she doesn’t regret it.

That doesn’t calm the emotional turbulence in the slightest, though.

Snapshots of Sam over the years play in her head on an endless loop:

Sam as a newborn, calmer than she’d expected, cuddly only on his own terms. She was so afraid of breaking him, terrified that she was doing everything wrong. At the same time, Greg’s hours grew longer and more intense at work, and even when he was physically present, he was always absorbed in something else. The early days of their marriage were cold more often than not, and with the barrage of life changes, Kiera found it difficult to maintain friendships. Especially those first few months, she felt so alone. It felt, many days, like it was her and Sam against the world. She poured her entire being into motherhood, forgot what it was like to live life not thinking of how every decision impacted another person. It was simultaneously more draining and more rewarding than anyone could have prepared her for.

The exhausting yet enthralling toddler years, full of firsts. Tentative steps leading seamlessly, in memory, to running and jumping and confident movement toward a goal - which was always, at that age, exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be getting into. Greg started to bring up the idea of Kiera joining CPS, which at first she’d been firmly against; what if something happened to her? How could Sam ever understand? That, Greg pointed out, was exactly why she was a perfect fit for the job: she had an innate need to protect others. As a Protector, with the entire force behind her and the aid of state-of-the-art tech, she could shield not just Sam but everyone else from harm. It was a perfect fit, wasn’t it?

Sam, maybe five years old, chasing Kiera around their apartment one evening, then begging Greg to join in when he came home from work. Greg agreeing, on threat of a raised eyebrow from Kiera, and after, the three of them collapsing in a fit of giggles on the couch. Kiera loved being able to really play with Sam at that age. Their home was always cluttered with toys and half-finished art projects. Sam, it seemed, had inherited Kiera’s love for painting, a hobby which she’d abandoned as a teenager after she’d gone into the military. Fighting someone else’s war didn’t leave a lot of time for the arts. She’d never had a chance to get good at it, but Sam showed a decent amount of promise, she thought. Of course, as his mother, she was biased. All the same, she saved every one of his messy explorations of form and color.

And, most painfully, Sam just before she left him, solemn and sweet, such a gentle old soul. Always patient with her when she couldn’t keep a promise exactly as she’d made it, resigned to the fact that Kiera was important to people besides just him, always pleased with whatever time she could give him. He was an anxious child, though, and nights Kiera was out late on a raid or was called in last-minute to clean up someone else’s mess, when she finally got home, she would find him pretending to be asleep. Playing along with the charade, she would press a kiss to his temple and find her own way to bed, knowing they both benefited from the reassurance of the other’s presence.

She’s surprised, more than anything, that she didn’t see him everywhere before. The ghost of him is in every corner; his shadow touches every surface. At night, Kiera’s arms reach out across the years and possibilities to hold him. Everything in her aches for her son.

Each time she fears she’s forgetting him, she pulls up the CMR footage Alec backed up.

It’s a unique agony to know that the person she sees in the video, that very real and vibrant little person, is gone. Not dead, just… _gone_. It would almost be easier, she thinks, her heart breaking, if he _were_ dead. At least then, she could mourn for real. Have a funeral. Mark his life, and her importance in it, with something tangible. Instead, she has to console herself with the knowledge that he is still a possibility, that he will exist someday in this timeline, and he will be incredibly loved, just as her Sam was.

* * *

  **Alec**

Alec has been spending an inordinate amount of time searching for a synonym for self. It would certainly simplify his internal dialogue about killing the other version of himself. Not, of course, that he's really been letting himself think about it.

It certainly wasn’t the first time in Alec’s life that a major, life-altering event didn’t really have time to sink in before the next wave of catastrophe hit. In fact, it’s become something of a pattern. There simply wasn’t time to process and cope. There’s something to be said for constant motion keeping you out of your own head, of course. But there’s also something to be said for sitting down and freaking out and actually dealing, which is something Alec never really got the chance to do.

At first, the only thing he was really capable of feeling was relief, not quite that this grand evil had been defeated, but that for better or worse, this chapter was finished. He and Kiera were on the same side again; Emily and the other people he cared about were safe; he was safe… ish. Safer than he’d been in a long time, anyway. A crazy time cult wasn’t trying to erase him from existence, and he could get back to business, trying to save the world. Far from an easy task, but comforting, almost, in its familiarity.

Then things started to calm down again. A lull in the chaos is the greatest danger when you’re trying to outrun your past. There are nights Alec wakes up and can scarcely breathe, images of his own face awash with blood tearing at the edges of his sanity. Alec has never been a good sleeper, but lately, he’s often so exhausted that everyday life feels like sleepwalking. Sometimes he’ll be walking down the street and hear a sudden noise - a car horn blaring, or a trash can toppling over - and his heart starts to race and he feels like he has to run, but instead, all his body will let him do is freeze and wait for whatever’s coming. It’s never any real danger - as much as a tire popping sounds like a gunshot, it’s not nearly as lethal - but he can’t shake the sense that he’s under threat.

Turns out that killing a demon that wore your face is a rather complicated affair. In dreams, at least, there isn’t much difference between killing a twisted evil twin and killing yourself.

The nightmares, the generalized anxiety that follows him throughout his day, the guilt, even the grief (so out of place for someone who tried to kill you, who controlled and manipulated and threatened people you would give anything to protect) - those he expected. The irrationally heightened response to loud noises, that surprises him. At least the other things, as unwelcome as they are, make sense. But why loud noises?

It’s not as though he’s completely ignorant of the implications. From the year of therapy after his dad died (or didn’t, actually - but there’s another direction he can’t allow his mind to travel, not now), he’s familiar with the red flags, the symptoms that indicate deeper trauma. As the weeks and months pass, he recognizes that the timeframe for acute stress response has passed; is there such a thing as mild PTSD? It’s not like it rules his life, but it’s there, ever-present and always waiting in the background for him to slip up and remember, to really remember and to feel.

Some residual pieces of him still resent Kiera for her role in what went down with Other Alec. Time, however, and distance, have given him perspective. Even more than before, they’re in this together, for better or worse. Guilt tells Alec to take the blame solely on his own; anger reminds him that Kiera could have done things differently, too. Neither option does him any good. Sure, he could have chosen not to go back to save Emily. Kiera could have chosen the right Alec to support from the beginning. Both of them are haunted by the things they did and didn’t do.

Maybe that’s why it doesn’t come a surprise when he wakes up, more than once, to see her sitting on his floor, dozing off with her head resting against the wall. Even with the worst his subconscious has to conjure, he’s fairly certain he doesn’t cry out, and yet Kiera knows. After everything - war, her time with CPS, being torn from her family and everything that’s happened since - there must be something in her that implicitly recognizes suffering, some piece of her that sees another soul struggling and simply _knows_. She never stays long, and she doesn’t say anything; but in the morning, there’s always a banana or a breakfast bar on the kitchen table and coffee in the pot. Kiera is the kind of person who can’t seem to help but take care of people. If nothing else, he appreciates the acknowledgment that he has never in his life been in more desperate need of caffeine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to apologize for taking so long to update this, but actually, mid-August isn't THAT long ago...is it? I feel like I kind of set the bar too high with my weekly updates of A Thousand Reasons. It's all downhill from there, my friends. Anyway, this is a pretty long section by my standards, so hopefully I'm forgiven.

** Alec **

Things get easier, with time. Not exactly better. But easier.

They fall into a new rhythm. Each member of their immediate team has a role to play, and recruiting others to the cause takes up a lot of their time, too.

Julian goes out and hits the pavement, building from his connections developed during his stint as an almost-revolutionary. His influence over the more radical elements of the anti-corporate agenda should prove to be useful, if he can harness it for good instead of nefarious purposes. Carlos, for his part, works tirelessly to revamp the police force in the wake of the dismantled Piron initiative. It’s a challenge Alec does not envy. Convincing people to give up power once they’ve had a taste is far from a simple task. As needed, Carlos runs interference to draw attention away from the others. Team time travel has to stay a secret, at least for now.

Jason, when he’s lucid, helps Alec design new tools for the resistance. Next up on their agenda: improved privacy software and untraceable hubs for organizing protests, so people aren’t so scared to get involved. Alec is anxious about this one, given how some protests for their cause have turned violent in the past, but he has to trust that Julian can get the message of peaceful interference across. And beyond that, it’s not like Alec has abandoned his dreams of innovating the fields of communication and medicine; he’s still working on something to treat Jason’s intermittent delirium, and he’s got a pretty cool idea for what he’s still mentally referring to as next-gen wifi, for lack of a better term. The wheels are constantly turning, and not being in a constant state of emergency has helped with the productivity. Alec is still working on convincing his subconscious that the danger, for the most part, has passed, but at least he’s able to scavenge a few hours of sleep each night. It’s enough to keep going, though he’s completely caffeine dependent now.

They’re all wary, in the aftermath of Dark Kellogg and Brad and the super soldiers, of swinging too far in the opposite direction of what Kiera remembers from her timeline. Power abdicated leaves a vacuum, and it’s dangerous to let just anyone get sucked in. For now, their focus remains on laying the foundation for the kind of world they want to build. Julian’s words will have a lot to do with that, but they all have a role to play.

And Kiera… Kiera rebuilds. She’s still obviously raw, but she finds meaning in the life she chose, and that makes it easier to function, Alec suspects. Without her nebulously defined position with the VPD, she has far fewer official resources at her disposal, but she makes do. When there are mysteries that need investigating or bad guys that need punching, Kiera’s the one to step in. Alec wishes there were fewer of the latter, but it does happen now and again. Their mission does attract an unsavory element; restructuring the world order is an appealing calling to many groups and individuals who are not suited to it, and other with good hearts are in a rush to get it all done overnight, whatever the cost.

She’s not confident of her place, at first. It’s like she’s tiptoeing around where she was once confident. One evening, she brings up the topic of living arrangements, which honestly hadn’t even occurred to Alec as an issue. He’d just sort of assumed that everything would stay the same on that front, but he supposes it makes sense that Kiera would ask. There was never really any formal agreement in place, and he knows how much she hates uncertainty.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” Alec assures her. “Not like you’re the only one, anyway. Besides, it makes sense to have a central base of operations… I make it sound like a war or something, don’t I?”

“I thought we were trying to prevent a war,” pipes up Julian from the couch, where, Alec learns, he is sprawled with a laptop and an abandoned mug of unidentified liquid.

“Holy hell, Julian!” Alec blurts, more startled than he has any right to be, since - as he was just saying - the house has multiple inhabitants. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Obviously since before this conversation started, or you would have noticed me. Or maybe you wouldn’t. I need to stop overestimating your powers of observation.”

This earns an eyeroll from Alec. As he and Julian have spent more time together, they’ve started acting more like brothers instead of two entirely different people shoved under one roof, each barely tolerating the other’s presence. This has not decreased Julian’s sarcasm levels in the slightest, however. If anything, their burgeoning respect for one another has only encouraged the sass.

“Sometimes you have to start a few fights to avoid the worse ones down the road. Picking your battles does no good if you pick none of them.”

Julian makes a noncommittal noise. “We need to get everyone together to figure out where we’re going next. A meeting of the minds, if you will.”

* * *

** Kiera **

“The suit makes you invisible, not invincible, Kiera! You need to stop taking unnecessary risks!”

This bickering is becoming a constant refrain every time Kiera comes home after any physical engagement. Ignoring Alec’s voice in her ear telling her to _be careful, you can always come back later, you don’t - dammit, Kiera, wait for backup!_ is practically second nature by now. Having to regularly deal with a downright fretful Alec in person afterward is a whole new level of aggravating, however.

“What I need,” Kiera groans as she sits up, pressing the ice pack to her side, “is for you to stop hovering.”

“I am not _hovering_ , I am _helping_. Or did you want to get these yourself?” He dangles painkillers in front of her face, and she snatches them from his hand and downs them without even reaching for the water bottle on her nightstand. He frowns disapprovingly at her.

“That’s a great way to burn a hole in your esophagus, you know that, right?”

“If you’re going to keep worrying about me every time something little goes wrong, maybe it’s better if I find somewhere else to stay, hmm? I’m not trying to be nasty, Alec, but if you’re going to fuss over every bruise…”

“This is clearly more than just a bruise, Kiera. At least one of your ribs is probably broken; you could have punctured a lung, or…”

“But I didn’t. Okay? I’m _fine_ , Alec. A few broken ribs is nothing I haven’t handled before.”

Alec’s mouth twists in concern. “You weren’t serious about leaving, were you? Because… Kiera, where would you go? You don’t have a paying job, and Julian’s friend is still working on that ID for you, so it’s not like you can apply for public assistance or anything. Besides, you have a home here. If you need me to back off, I can. I just don’t want you getting unnecessarily hurt, you understand?”

“Is reminding me that I have no agency over my own life supposed to make me want to stay?” she asks in disbelief.

“What? No, I just meant… _Dammit_ , Kiera!”

“That seems to be your favorite phrase these days,” she mutters.

He softens slightly. “If you really want to find somewhere else to live, I’ll work with you. We can make it happen. I just wish you would accept help once in a while, okay? I don’t mind helping. I _like_ helping, in fact. You remember when you first got here, and everything was crazy, and it was you against the world? I wanted to help you then, and I still want to help you now. That hasn’t changed. If anything, I’ve come to believe in you more over time. And your goals. You’re a good person, Kiera. You’re just really, really stupidly reckless sometimes.”

“You want to throw one more ‘help’ in there?”

“Excuse me for not having a thesaurus for a brain!”

* * *

** Alec **

As aggravating as it is to admit, Julian was right. They need to come up with a more solid plan of how they’re going to face this world changing business.

The plan is for Carlos to come over after work tonight, so they can get everyone around a table and talk strategy. The meeting was supposed to happen last week, but the detective got tied up with something and couldn’t make it. Alec hasn’t gotten the whole story out of Carlos yet, but he knows it has something to do with Garza and whatever’s left of the Liber8 movement. Last he heard, Garza had found another uprising to involve herself in, somewhere in South America. He’s a little surprised that she didn’t stick around to figure things out here, but at the same time, it sort of makes sense. Garza came here as part of a team, with her own mission alongside her squad’s. The former is pretty much resolved at this point - it seems highly unlikely that Alec is going to turn into the cold, calculating figure who sent them all back - and the greater goal of restructuring the world order probably has to be put on hold with no confederates. If Garza does even still believe in Liber8’s mission, she has to regroup. With any luck, she’s changed her mind on the whole thing anyway, though Alec isn’t holding out hope.

Anxiety about the upcoming team huddle had Alec wide awake all night. It wasn’t all bad; at least if he isn’t sleeping, he also isn’t waking up in a sweat from nightmares. A certain point comes when it’s just not worth it to pretend you’re going to sleep at all, so he’s starting his day far earlier than strictly necessary. As exhausted as he is, he does sort of understand why Kiera likes to wake up before everyone else: there’s a sort of peace to the world at this hour, at least in this house, like nothing is quite real yet. It’s simultaneously comforting and inspiring. If he doesn’t fall into an accidental nap, he sort of feels like he could do anything.

Alec glances over to the table and sees Kiera beaming sleepily at her mug, looking utterly enchanted. Coffee, real, honest coffee, is still a small miracle to Kiera. He takes in the tangled hair, oversized t-shirt, and pajama shorts look and starts grinning himself. Over time, she’s become less and less of a natural morning person, which amuses Alec greatly. _I love this about you_ , he thinks. _If I could have this every day, it would never be enough._

* * *

** Kiera **

It’s obvious, to Kiera at least, that Alec is anxious about tonight. She doesn’t quite understand why; it’s not like this is anything new. Maybe it’s just that speaking a plan aloud makes what they’re doing seem all the more real.

They’ve been in a bit of a lull since they dispatched the super soldiers, actually. Before, their team, such as it was, had a pretty definite goal in mind, and despite the chaos, their roles were fairly well defined. Now, with no distinct enemy and no solid idea of what exactly they’re hoping to accomplish, it’s mostly been a matter of putting out fires as they arise.

Today, Kiera is researching copyright law. It’s giving her a headache and it’s dry as hell, but it’s relevant to a case Carlos passed along information about, thinking it might have something to do with some potentially-Liber8-radicalized fringe group. She’s wandering around the house, wondering if the grass has dried enough from last night’s storm for her to take her work outside, when she comes across Alec’s makeshift office for the day. He’s sitting on the floor with his laptop in front of him, books and various papers scattered in a vague circle around him. It seems like he would be more organized if he actually sat at one of the desks he has set up, but Kiera knows that sameness can be toxic to creativity, and she’s also aware that Alec has been stuck on the same problem in whatever he’s currently coding for a few days.

Without stopping to consider why she does it, Kiera stops and simply watches for a few minutes. Engrossed in his task, Alec doesn’t notice her standing there. It’s fascinating to watch Alec work. Sometimes it feels like observing an alternate Jason, especially when Alec mumbles to himself and scribbles notes everywhere. However, Alec thankfully has less of a tendency to lose things. Though his papers are in various stages of pristine and crumpled, they all make it back into a folder at the end of the day, and Kiera knows he types up most of his notes.

Even when he’s not talking aloud to work through something, Alec’s face while he creates is so expressive. Even when it’s obvious something isn’t working right, he seems equal parts frustrated and exhilarated. To Kiera’s dismay, Lucas’s lesson in 2077 slang has not faded from Alec’s memory; he quietly exclaims, “Shaboof!” when he makes some kind of breakthrough with whatever he’s assigned himself for today. Kiera rolls her eyes, but she feels something in her stomach make a funny little turn.

 _I could love you, if I let myself,_ she thinks, and she immediately berates herself. That isn’t where her thoughts should be drifting.

She busies herself with sorting her stack of too-thick textbooks and highlighted printouts, but her mind keeps buzzing with thoughts she’s not sure she could or wants to put into words.

* * *

On the long list of unpleasant tasks Kiera had to handle after choosing to stay, making nice with Carlos was one she dreaded the most. It would have been far easier to simply skip out the way she had planned; they’d made a truce of sorts, when they thought it was the end, because that’s what you _do_ when you think you’re not going to see someone again. Choosing to make a life here, however, meant addressing the rift in their friendship that had developed ever since… well, probably since Kiera had followed Alec back in time. Carlos had never quite been able to accept the idea of her being the same as “his” Kiera, just with additional memories and life experiences that he wasn’t present for, and his disagreement with some of her decisions bubbled up into quiet resentment. For her part, Kiera hated that Carlos didn’t trust her, and his accusation that she was choosing her own happiness (whether with Brad or Sam or anyone else) over the safety of her friends had stung.

The first week or two, when Kiera avoided anyone and anything beyond simply existing, nursing her wounds, grieving, and readjusting her expectations, it had been easy enough to convince herself that she could continue on as they had been.

At first, they’d been tentative, tiptoeing around each other as they’d become accustomed to doing. Gradually, voices and words became sharper until they were shouting at each other, months of unsaid hurt spilling over all at once.

After, they’d knocked back some really bad beer Carlos had picked up for cheap and found he hated, but it was all he had around, and then Carlos had said something that surprised a laugh out of Kiera, and things were better. Not perfect, and it wouldn’t be, couldn’t be. Their partnership would remain somewhat strained by necessity, because the very nature of the beast, this rewriting history business, stretched the limits of what Carlos could be expected to do, and Kiera would have to operate outside the purview of the strictly legal to accomplish what she needed to do.

Even having already aired their dirty laundry, even though they’ve been at least somewhat working together again for months, the prospect of having Carlos back in her life on a more familiar level produces in Kiera a small flare of anxiety.

* * *

There’s just something bizarre about having everyone in one room together, with boxes of takeout in various stages of nearly empty strewn about. Everyone has been working their own angle all along, but seeing all the key members of the team in one place drives home just what a strange mission they’re all on. Criminals, scientific masterminds, time travelers, all at least nominally on the same side.

Carlos is the last one to arrive. Upon entering the admittedly impressive house, he whistles. “Nice digs! Living well off the spoils of war, I see.”

Alec shuffles uncomfortably and Kiera shoots Carlos a withering glare. Carlos winces.

“Right then. Next steps. Anyone want to start us off?”

“I think it’s pretty apparent that Kiera needs a legal identity,” Julian pipes up. “Leading a revolution as a ghost has its perks, but if we want to do much of anything in the light of day, we need her to be a real person.”

“Right from the start I see I’m going to be covering my ears and singing for a good deal of this chat,” Carlos grumbles.

“How would that even be possible, though?” questions Jason. He’s enjoying more bright spots of lucidity recently, thanks to Alec’s latest interventions, and today is a better day than most. “Well - possible’s not the right word; I’m aware it’s technically _possible_ , but still. Creating an entire identity from scratch, one that’s solid enough not to raise many questions? That’s a tall order. You’re not just talking about a fake ID and a passport here.”

Julian rolls his eyes. “I do have contacts in the seedy criminal underworld, you know.”

Carlos grouches, “Seriously, guys?” All heads swivel toward him in unison. “Really. Is there a point to having me here for this? Because right now, all I’m hearing is, ‘here’s a list of reasons you’re gonna get fired, Carlos.’”

“I’m getting to that,” Kiera answers. “Liber8 had one thing right – to make lasting change of this magnitude, we need more than the hearts and minds of the general populace. What they were trying to do with Jim Martin makes sense. We need political influence.”

“Who?” This, again, from Jason.

“I’m thinking Carlos is our best bet.” Here, plotting and strategizing, Julian is in his element. Though it pains Kiera to admit it, he has a gift.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. Inspector is one thing; political office is another. Besides, if we’re going to prevent a police state, wouldn’t it help to have someone in the inside, on the force?”

“No one says you have to start campaigning tomorrow. Keep doing what you’re doing, moving up in the department, catching bad guys and making the streets safer. It’s important work, and it sets the tone for you to step up when the time comes.”

As the debate rages, Kiera observes Alec, his intent stance, the tilt of his head toward the current speaker, the way he carefully listens and absorbs before commenting. He’s grown in that way, hasn’t he? It wasn’t long ago he would jump in just for the sake of being heard. Her eyes are drawn to Alec’s fingers fluttering at his side. She’s noticed he does it often when presumably anxious, though she doubts he’s even aware of doing it - the movement seems to come as naturally to him as breathing. Some part of Alec is nearly always in motion; it’s one trait she’s found that he and Jason share. She looks away for a few minutes, her attention caught by Jason’s grand gestures as he attempts to explain something, and when her gaze finds Alec again, she’s surprised – but only somewhat – to see _he’s_ watching _her_. Seemingly embarrassed to be caught, Alec reddens, but Kiera gives him a small smile, and he visibly relaxes.

The night continues like that, the team bouncing ideas off one another, and Kiera finds there’s a seed of hope growing inside her that she wouldn’t have dared to nourish before. Though she’s still afraid to inspect her optimism too closely, so much more seems possible now.

* * *

** Alec **

Soon after he’d started dating Emily, they’d been wandering aimlessly around one of those fairs that pop up suddenly throughout the summer, and they’d run into a psychic who’d tried to convince them to part with a few dollars for a reading by briefly demonstrating her “gift.”

He can’t remember anymore what drivel she spouted about Emily, but her words to him were well chosen for their mark. “I see a young man with a destiny, and he’s running – only he’s not sure if he’s running toward it or away,” she’d intoned ominously.

It was all Alec could do at the time to hold in his laughter until after he and Emily politely declined the charlatan’s services, yet Emily seemed to take it to heart much more than Alec would have expected. The whole night, every so often, she’d glance over at him and gnaw on her lip, until finally Alec sighed heavily and said, “It’s not a big deal, Em. What, do you really think there are people out there who can see the future?”

“No one who could would be plying their trade on the fairground circuit. Besides, she wasn’t that kind of fortune teller. The point is, it seems to me she wasn’t that far off.”

Alec scoffed. “Psychics lie for a living.”

“They read people for a living,” Emily corrected. “You don’t have to believe in how they say they do it to believe in what they see.”

He wonders, now, what exactly the psychic saw in him to convince her that a spiel about a heavy fate was the right bait for her hook with this particular potential client.

* * *

Ever since they met to draw up battle plans, the other Alec’s words, just before the end, have been echoing in his mind on an endless loop: “I win, Alec, because I want it more.”

The fortune teller was more right than she could possibly have known. Alec still isn’t sure, even after everything, whether he wants this. Whether he wants to seize the destiny that’s been laid out before him or retreat to safety, content with mediocrity. It’s only become more complicated as he’s witnessed the spiraling web of consequences to every seemingly minor decision he makes. This Alec has doubts about his claim to power. The other one didn’t. That confidence lent itself to much success for Other Alec.

Maybe that lingering doubt is the key to maintaining his humanity. A king secure in his throne has no reason to seek the will of the people.

Now he has to make that choice, keep making that choice, to be someone too close to comfort to the Alec Sadler Kiera remembers from her future. Power doesn’t have to corrupt: more than anything, power shows who you’ve always been, once you have the option to be anyone.

More than anyone else on their ragtag team, Alec is in a position to change the course of their collective fate. It unnerves him, but it’s also invigorating. There’s something incredibly healing about the very things you fear most about yourself being the things that enable you to make the world, and your own small piece of it, a better place.

* * *

** Alec **

After a late night of revising a particularly difficult section of code - a phrase that mostly translates to rapidly blinking, mass-consuming coffee, and internally screaming - Alec is finally heading to bed when, passing by Kiera’s room, he hears muffled sobbing.

He’s never thought of Kiera as a crier. Not because he’s never seen her cry; he absolutely has.  Usually – if not always; he can’t quite recall, somehow – because of Sam. Sam brings Kiera more joy and more heart-wrenching sorrow than anything else in her life can. Right now, Kiera is, above all other things, a mother in mourning. That’s not something Alec can empathize with, he realizes. Bizarre time travel father-son relationships aside, Alec has no personal experience with what it’s like to be a parent. Intellectually, he can sort of conceptualize it, the horror of being separated from someone you’re not only responsible for but _brought to life_ ; but the full weight of it escapes him. He’s not in a position to understand the gravity of Kiera’s choice.

( _Not like Brad could_ , he thinks bitterly. But he tries not to think too much about that, because wanting to punch someone who’s several borders away does no one any good.)

He pauses outside her door, wondering if he should say something or just let her grieve in peace. His instinct to protect and fix wars with his wisdom to let Kiera process in her own time, until her voice drifts out to the hall with an hint of amusement: “If you’re going to worry about me, you might as well do it in here.”

Hesitantly, Alec nudges open her door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“And yet, you have most definitely been dropping eaves, Alec Sadler.”

“Was that… did you just make a Lord of the Rings reference?”

“I have been at least trying to assimilate into the 2010s, Alec. Besides, you and Carlos have regrettably similar taste in fiction, so…” She smiles at him, and it’s so at odds with her very red eyes, but he knows she’s trying. Whether for him or for herself, he isn’t sure. He hopes she knows she’s allowed to be unhappy. Life has screwed her over six ways from Tuesday. No one could expect her to just be okay.

Kiera frowns at him. “I thought the nerd reference would make you happy.”

“What? No, it did. You’re catching on. I’m proud.” Alec sits next to her on the bed, keeping a respectable distance between them. He’s already intruding enough on her space.

“What are you thinking?” she asks softly.

 _Honesty or avoidance?_ Alec bites his lip. “Kiera, you were falling apart a minute ago. Now you’re cracking jokes. I’m glad you’re finding little things to be happy about, but I just… You don’t have to pretend to be okay for my sake, okay? If that’s even… I’m just saying. You’re allowed to be upset. No one’s going to hold that against you.”

“I made my decision, Alec. For the first time since this whole mess started, I had a choice. I chose to stay.”

“Even if you did make the choice, you can still be conflicted,” he points out. How many times has that been true for him? “Even without regretting the call you’ve made, you can still resent some of the fallout.”

Slowly, Kiera rolls her eyes to the ceiling. Often, she struggles to make eye contact in moment of vulnerability. “It’s like the two halves of my heart have been thrown to opposite ends of the earth. Except it’s not even that easy. Sam is in one timeline, and everything I’ve built here is in another. And then again, Sam probably isn’t _anywhere_ now. So there’s a lot that I have to come to terms with.”

Alec stays silent, simply listening. He’s pretty sure that’s what she needs more than anything else right now.

“Before anything else, I’m a mother,” Kiera says. “Without that, without Sam, who am I?”

At first, he thinks she’s asking another of those unanswerable questions that they’ve all been bombarded with lately. But she glances over at him with a pleading expression, and his heart sinks, and he thinks, _Oh,_ s _hit._ He’s not prepared for this.

“A time traveler. A cop, or a secret agent, or whatever your job description is these days. Leader of a rebellion against the charted course of history. A friend. A…” He hesitates. “A _person_ , Kiera. Dammit, isn’t that enough? All these roles you have to fill, but that doesn’t even begin to cover it. Aren’t we all on a quest to uncover our identity, or - or whatever? That’s a universal human plight.”

She looks like she might start crying again, so he tries a different tack. “You’re still a mother, Kiera. No one can ever take that away from you. Even if Sam never exists in this timeline, even if your timeline was erased, nothing can change that part of you. Your past really happened, and it shaped you.”

Falteringly, she says, “How can I accept that my past isn’t part of my future?”

“But it is. It won’t look the same, but everything you experienced is influencing the way you act now, the way you move forward. Life isn’t really lived linearly, Kiera. You just happen to have a better grasp on that than most of us.”

She leans back against the headboard, seeming spent. “I don’t know what to do with myself,” she confesses. “I know I chose to stay for good reasons. I know there’s a lot of good for me to do here. And I really think I’m willing to so what it takes to make the future we want happen. That’s not the hard part. I just struggle, sometimes, with not just going through the motions, but really _living_ here. There’s no switch I can flip to convince myself that I’m allowed to be happy. This is my home, but I don’t quite feel it yet.”

It’s so much more frank than he expected, on multiple levels. Alec muses, “Maybe home is one of those words that doesn’t have a static definition.”

* * *

** Kiera **

“What is home to you?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, aching. “Sometimes it’s a place, but not the physical location - the feeling you get from being there, that’s home. I thought living in the place I grew up would ground me, somehow. And it helped, but…” She blinks rapidly. “That apartment didn’t belong to me, not anymore. Not yet. My memories there were made in a whole different world.

“I guess ‘home’ is more often people, isn’t it? Greg and Sam were home for me, before. Well, Sam, mostly, by the time I left.” She brushes aside the complicated mix of emotions Greg inspires in her. That’s something she dealt with in herself a long time ago, probably not even consciously.

“And now?”

Her heart flips. On impulse, she answers honestly.

“My home is with you,” she says simply.

Immediately, it strikes her as entirely too much to have said. Hastily, she tries to cover up her moment of vulnerability; she adds, “And Carlos, and Jason and Julian, and whatever this thing is that we’re doing. It feels good to have a purpose in life.” But words, once uttered, have a way of finding their target, even if you weren’t aware of where you were aiming them as they flew from your brain out into the world. And Alec heard what she meant, even more than what she said. His eyes are feverishly bright, and he seemingly struggles with something internally before coming to a decision.

Soft as a whisper, he reaches out and brushes her hair – a tangled, frightful mess, but she hasn’t been able to bring herself to care in so long – behind her ear. That touch, skin against skin, is electric, as thrilling as it is innocent. Her breath catches in her throat as his finger brushes against her bottom lip. It’s more than she can bear, this wanting. And the happiness this moment brings her, it’s far, far more than she can allow herself. She didn’t stay for this; now is not the time for distractions. She’s here, in this time, for a purpose. There are goals, plans to be made, minds to shape and hearts to influence, battle lines to be drawn.

All that flies out the window when he kisses her.

It isn’t anything like the first time. This is quieter, calmer. More hesitant, maybe, like asking a question he isn’t sure he wants the answer to.

A fragile peace settles over Kiera and she thinks she could be perfectly content to stay here, now, forever, but time doesn’t work like that. Time never moves the way she wants it to. Too soon, it’s time for her to speak, and she doesn’t know what words to offer.

Awkwardly punctuating the moment, “Thank you,” she says at last.

Confusion crosses Alec’s face, and maybe – probably – disappointment, too.

Kiera sighs. “I don’t know what to say,” she confesses. “I just… words are… hard, okay?” Thoughts fire through her brain rapidly, none of them offering a useful arrangement of words for explaining herself. “I didn’t think…. I didn’t expect that. I thought I had my chance, you know?”

After a beat, Alec relaxes and teases, “Lucky for you, then, that you’re not the only player in this game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Alec's development in this section and the last was originally supposed to be its own (much smaller) fic, which I decided to merge into this one instead. The only real downside to that is that I didn't get to use what I thought was an absolutely BOMB title: A Synonym for Self.


End file.
